“Even if I give you all that, I can’t give you the combination. The renters set those themselves.”
“I know that. We’ll take care of that part.” Jake planted his hands on the counter. “I’ll throw in a bottle of good champagne with the dinner.”
“Johnny wouldn’t know what to do with a good bottle of champagne...so I’ll drink that myself.” Felicia sat back in her chair and scooted it in front of a computer. “I’ll check for Hallie first.”
Jake winked at Georgette.
“Nothing under Hallie’s name. Next?”
Georgette licked her lips. “Jamie Lawson.”
Felicia’s fingers flew over the keyboard, and she whistled through her teeth. “Jamie Lawson rented a locker over a month ago.”
“And the rental has expired?” Georgette folded her clammy hands on top of the counter.
“Nope.” Felicia squinted at the computer screen. “She rented it for four months, paid in advance.”
“Four months?” Georgette twisted her fingers. She’d had no idea Jamie planned to stay on Palumba for four months, and if that was the plan, where did she go?
“The locker number, Felicia?” Jake covered Georgette’s stiff hands with one of his own.
“It’s number 305. Around the corner and against the back wall.” She wagged a finger sporting a long, French-tipped nail. “No blow torches or crowbars. You can’t break into the locker, Jake.”
“No need to.” He smacked his hand on the counter. “Thanks. Drop by the Falls anytime for your freebie...but you really need to hang out with a better class of man.”
Georgette’s heart fluttered in her chest as she and Jake rounded the corner to a hallway boasting a row of lockers on either side.
Jake pointed down the corridor. “Felicia said it was against the back wall.”
“Those are the large size. What could she and Jean-Claude have stored in there? Jamie had all her suitcases in her room, as far as I could tell.” Georgette followed Jake on wobbly legs and hooked one finger in his waistband.
He veered to the left. “Three hundred on the top and then 301 below it. Even numbers on the top and odd on the bottom. Here it is.”
Jake didn’t even have to crouch to reach the digital combination lock. He tapped the display of keys. “Okay, five, eight, two, and I’ll try one, as I’m not sure about that last number.”
“I thought you weren’t sure about the second number. You said six or eight.”
“No, I figured out that number was eight.” He entered the four numbers. “It’s not one.”
He tried the number two next as a cold dread began building in Georgette’s chest. She wedged a shoulder against the top locker and swallowed the lump in her throat.
“Three...” Jake banged his fist against the locker. “Nope.”
He cleared the digits and tried again, muttering, “Five, eight, two, four.”
The click seemed to echo down the hallway, echo in her brain. She held her breath as Jake lifted the handle and swing open the door.
Georgette shoved off the wall of lockers and took a step back, covering her mouth. “What’s that smell? Chemicals?”
“A suitcase.” Jake grabbed the handle of the bag and yanked it out of the locker. It fell to the floor with a thud.
Her gaze pinned to the bag, Georgette put out her hands. “No. Don’t open it, Jake.”
“Are you afraid it’s a bomb or something with that smell?” He rested a hand on her hip. “Maybe you should wait down the hallway while I open it.”
Georgette’s feet seemed rooted to the linoleum floor. “No, it’s what we came here for. Go ahead.”
Jake grabbed the zipper, which had a small lock attached to it. He pulled a knife out of his pocket and hit the lock with the butt until it broke open. He dragged one zipper one way and the other another way and lifted the lid.
Icy fingers gripped the back of Georgette’s neck, and a scream barreled up from her chest as she stared into the empty eye sockets of a human skull.
Chapter Fourteen
Jake dropped the lid on the suitcase full of bones as Georgette’s scream beat against his eardrums. He pivoted toward her and pulled her trembling body into his arms.
“What’s going on? What’s the matter?” A custodian, his keys jingling at his belt, jogged toward them.
“We need to call the police.” Jake kicked the bag on the ground. “We discovered human bones in this suitcase.”
The custodian’s mouth fell open, and all the color drained from his face.
Georgette’s scream had been loud enough to attract the scant crew working the night shift at the airport.
Felicia showed up, her gaze darting from the custodian yakking on the phone to the police, to Georgette, her head still buried against Jake’s shoulder.
“What is it? What’s in the suitcase?” Felicia covered her mouth. “What’s that smell?”
“Bones.” The custodian ended his call and pointed a shaky finger at the suitcase on the floor. “There’s a skeleton in there.”
“What?” Felicia stumbled back, clutching her stomach. “Th-that’s not the smell of a dead body, is it?”
Jake sniffed the air that emanated from the locker and the suitcase. It smelled like some kind of acid component or lye—something that might melt the flesh off of a dead body.
He pulled Georgette away from the bag as Gabriel, the airport security guard, showed up.
“What happened, Jake? There’s a body in the bag?” Gabriel placed his hand on the gun in his holster as if to apprehend the perpetrator here in the corridor of lockers.
“It’s a skeleton, Gabriel, just bones.”
Gabriel hissed between his teeth. “Hallie? Oh God, I hope it’s not Hallie or that other woman, the tourist.”
Georgette’s body stiffened in Jake’s arms, and she twisted around. “Open the suitcase again, Jake.”
“I’m not going to do that, Georgette. Let the police figure it out.”
Her gaze swept past him and settled on Gabriel and then shifted beyond him to Clive and another officer, who were scurrying between the banks of lockers.
Jake pulled her close again and whispered in her ear, “They’re not going to investigate this on their own. They’ll have help from another agency.”
The knots in his stomach tightened, and he squeezed Georgette harder. He hoped to God this skeleton wasn’t Jamie. Georgette would never get this image of her sister out of her mind.
Jake greeted Clive, and the questions began. He and Georgette told a half-truth about finding information about Jamie’s locker and the combination among her things, and he got a grateful look from Felicia.
“Why would your sister have a locker at the airport, Ms.... Lawson, is it?”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you Jamie is my sister before, Constable, and I don’t know why she’d have a locker here. I just saw the combo information on a postcard of hers and asked Jake to take me here to check it out.”
“Don’t worry. We’ll get help from the investigators on the big island to identify the...remains. It might help if you can get your sister’s dental records. DNA test results will take a long time to get back.”
“If there’s a possibility that the bones in that suitcase belong to my sister, maybe we can get the FBI involved in the investigation.”
“Maybe.” Clive’s eyes glittered through slits. “We’ll see.”
Jake pinched Georgette’s waist. Now was not the time to antagonize Clive. “What about Jean-Claude, Clive? Is he still alive?”
“Still clinging to life in the hospital, but he hasn’t regained consciousness.” He nodded toward the suitcase. “Do you think he has something to do with this? Perhaps he and Jamie Lawson had an argument and he killed her.”
“And then he came back to the scene of the crime and stuffed her bones in a locker she happened to have rented?” Georgette’s nostrils flared, and two spots of color stained her cheeks.
“Perhaps, and then he felt
guilty and tried to drown himself in the pool.” Clive rubbed his hands together, warming to his story.
Georgette’s lips tightened. “That’s an odd way to commit suicide.”
“The Frenchman had drugs and alcohol in his system, Ms. Lawson. He was probably half conscious when he went into the water.”
“And then his bungalow burned down?”
“Jake mentioned an unextinguished lamp. Do you know something more?”
Jake coughed. “No. That’s what it was.”
“Then maybe Jean-Claude set that up, too, before his suicide attempt. I think I may have solved the mystery. I am sorry for your loss, Ms. Lawson.”
“But...”
Jake grabbed Georgette’s hand. “We’ll wait for the findings.”
The island medical examiner, Dr. Mendoza, joined the group.
“I got a call about some bones.” He waved his hand in front of his face. “That’s some strong lye. That won’t decompose bones, but it will decompose flesh.”
Jake glanced at Georgette. The skin around her mouth looked white, but she touched the doctor on the arm.
She asked, “Is one month enough time for a body to decompose and leave just the bones?”
Dr. Mendoza adjusted his glasses. “That depends on the circumstances and the climate. We certainly have the climate here in Palumba to lead to quick decomposition, especially if the body was left out in the elements. One month? It could happen, but perhaps that’s the reason for the lye—to complete the decomposition.”
“Dr. Mendoza, that’s all speculation at this point.” Clive took the doctor’s arm. “Hadn’t you better take a look at the bones before making wild guesses?”
“Quite right.” The doctor tugged on the hem of his Hawaiian shirt. “But the lady did ask.”
“Thank you, Dr. Mendoza.” Georgette shot a glance at Clive from beneath her lashes.
Clive spread his arms. “Everyone is going to have to back up now. We have a crime scene.”
“Let’s go, Georgette.” Jake tugged on her hand. “You’re not going to do any good here. The doc isn’t going to do an examination from the suitcase. Clive, Dottie, I’d appreciate it if you’d keep our names out of this. That goes for the rest of you, too.”
Dottie, the officer who’d accompanied Clive, nodded at him and winked. “I’ll make sure of it, Jake. Don’t worry.”
Jake led Georgette out of the airport. When they got into the Jeep, he started the car and let the engine idle, waiting for Georgette’s breakdown.
“Clive’s theory is BS.”
Jake twisted his head to look at Georgette. “You don’t think those are Jamie’s bones?”
“I’m not sure.” With the tip of her finger, she caught a tear leaking from the corner of her eye. “But if Jean-Claude did murder Jamie, like Clive thinks, and then returned to stash her bones in the locker before trying to commit suicide, what about Hallie? We got to that locker because of Hallie’s mother. Where is Hallie? How are she and Jamie connected? Jamie rented that locker, and Hallie and Fiso knew about it. Why?”
Jake let out a long breath. He should’ve known Georgette wasn’t the type of woman to fall apart. “I agree with you, and what about the money Jean-Claude started throwing around?”
“And the money Jamie had? She never told our mother she planned to island-hop for four months. She was going to use Dad’s insurance money to travel the world for six months and then move to New York.”
“I think those things are all linked, but don’t get on Clive’s bad side right now. I thought you were going to bite his head off.”
“I felt like it.” She drummed her fingers on the dashboard. “You said Fiso was a druggie. What about Hallie? Did she use drugs?”
“Not that I know of. Fiso’s drug habit was a point of contention between them. Why?”
“When I searched Jamie’s room, I found something she’d hidden.”
“Drugs?”
“Yes.” Hunching her shoulders, Georgette clasped her hands between her knees.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Her admission hit him like a punch to the gut. He thought she’d come to trust him.
“I-I don’t know. I thought that if I told anyone, I would be besmirching her. Jamie didn’t use drugs. My sister had plenty of vices, but drug use wasn’t one of them.”
“Maybe she picked up the habit on her travels.”
“I doubt it. Jamie was vain about her looks. She enjoyed her booze, but even then, she’d detox for a few weeks at a time, always concerned that the drinking would negatively affect her appearance. I can’t see her using drugs for that reason alone.”
“Why would she have drugs in her room?” The money. The locker. Jake rubbed his chin. “Do you think she and Jean-Claude could’ve been selling? Exactly how much did you find in her room, and what did you do with them?”
“I don’t know what it was. I don’t know anything about drugs. It was in a square package. I guess it could’ve been enough to sell.”
“Did you toss it?”
“I hid it in my room.”
Jake slammed his hands against the steering wheel. “My God, Georgette. Do you know how dangerous that is? And someone broke into your room. That someone stole a postcard but not the drugs?”
“I found the drugs after the postcard was stolen, and I didn’t bother to hide the postcard. I did hide the drugs—in the tank of the toilet.”
“What?” He ran a hand through his hair. “How the hell did you know to do that?”
She lifted and dropped her shoulders quickly. “I saw it on TV. If anyone else has broken into my room, they haven’t found the drugs.”
Jake clenched the steering wheel. “There is a drug problem on the island, and it’s getting worse. Bones Bonnaire is definitely involved at some level.”
Georgette covered her face with her hands. “That nickname has new meaning now, doesn’t it?”
Jake tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear, tracing the soft curve of her lobe with his fingertip. “Let’s wait. We don’t know if that’s Jamie.”
“Or Hallie.” She dropped her hands in her lap. “Let’s face it. It has to be one of them. Nobody else on the island is missing. How am I going to tell my mother? How am I going to request those dental records? It’ll destroy her. Jamie has always been her favorite.”
“Don’t tell her anything yet. We don’t know anything.”
“It’s the drugs, Jake. It has to be. The drugs connect all the players—Fiso, Hallie, Jean-Claude...and Jamie.”
“I wish you’d told me about finding those drugs in Jamie’s room. Between the two of us, we could’ve made these links sooner.”
Georgette held up her hand, fingers spread wide. She ticked off each finger as she recited the names and events. “Hallie vanished after arguing with Fiso about the airport locker. Jamie and Jean-Claude disappeared. I found drugs in Jamie’s room, and Jean-Claude returned and was then found floating in the pool with drugs in his system. Finally, Fiso was a known drug user, he was high when I talked to him, and then he died of an overdose. Why would someone want to get rid of the four of them?”
“They must’ve had some information about the drug trade in Palumba.” Jake shifted into gear and let out the clutch. “I need to get back to the hotel.”
“Someone wants to shift attention away from the drug aspect and put it on the Palarosa ritual. To nail the perps, we’re going to have to let them believe they have us fooled.”
“Nail the perps?” Jake jerked his head to the side and twisted his lips. “Who are you? CSI Palumba?”
She wagged a finger in his face. “Don’t laugh. It’s working. Until we almost got blown up in Jean-Claude’s bungalow, whoever was targeting me laid off once I started hyping up my party-girl image. Two more days until the full moon. What better way to get rid of me than to sacrifice me in the ritual?”
Jake shook his head. “We’re back to that again? Don’t play with fire, Georgette. We’ll go to the FBI with what we kno
w. They’ll want to open an investigation, especially if the bones in the locker...”
“Turn out to be Jamie’s.”
He clasped her hand with one of his. “I’m sorry. Just be careful for the next few days.”
When he pulled up in front of the hotel, Georgette jumped from the Jeep and waved her hand. “I’m going to run up to my room and check on my stash...and then I have a dinner to attend.”
Jake watched Georgette breeze into the hotel lobby, attracting admiring gazes in her wake, and his fingers curled around the steering wheel. If Georgette wouldn’t watch out for herself, he’d just have to do double time —especially on the night of the full moon.
***
Georgette replaced the lid on the toilet tank with a sigh. Drugs still intact. She sat back on her heels and whispered. “What were you and Jean-Claude up to, Jamie?”
When Jake thought her fiancé had come for her, he’d sent her suitcase back to her hotel room. She dragged it out of the corner, flipped up the lid, and pulled out a few dresses for Gunther’s birthday dinner tonight. She decided on a two-piece outfit—a white bandeau top with a pair of satin boy shorts on the bottom covered with a lacy, see-through, white skirt that reached her ankles. She slipped into a pair of barely-there stiletto sandals, which made her more than six feet tall.
She’d come to embrace her height here, pull back her shoulders and own it. When she strode into a room, heads turned, and she felt confident and sexy. She’d never felt sexy before in her life, but that might have something to do with the way Jake had lit a fuse in her belly.
She finished applying her makeup and then sashayed into the dining room, the sheer skirt swaying around her legs. Making a beeline for her party, she lifted her hand and wiggled her fingers at Gunther, who had risen from his chair, full of old-world gallantry.
Georgette almost tripped in her heels when she spied Brice at the table, his eyes goggling through his glasses. She recovered and aimed a smile in his direction. A woman in love could afford to be generous.
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